


Control Issues

by capildissexy



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, F/M, Orgasm Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5170418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capildissexy/pseuds/capildissexy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another PWP prompt fic. Clara and the Doctor and oral sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control Issues

Yet another prompt fic…

NSFW Whouffaldi prompt: Clara gives the Doctor a hot blowjob while he's on an important phone call. He can finish during the call or after he hangs up, that's up to you!

Control Issues

Jealousy looked good on the Doctor.

His brows furrowed and his steely blue eyes were sharp and hard. His barely leashed anger was arousing.

Clara was a little breathless as she watched him speaking on his cell phone. Observing him in control of a situation always excited Clara. The Doctor could handle anything from alien invasions to children worried about monsters under their bed.

But once they were alone together on the TARDIS, all of that fell away. He came apart in her arms, under her guidance. Her control. And the dichotomy between those two sides of his personality never failed to her stimulate her.

They'd been together as a couple since Christmas. It'd happened effortlessly, as though he'd just been waiting for her to see it. To see him.

Right now, Clara couldn't see anything but him.

She was wet and she didn't feel a bit guilty about it. They'd saved the world. Again. They were alone, except for phone calls from a nervous president. JFK had rang no less than three times, asking the Doctor's advice.

"Perhaps if you spent less time being a libidinous pudding brain and bothered to do your job, Jack, these things wouldn't happen," the Doctor said snidely. "But then again, why would expect anything else from someone with that unfortunate name?"

Clara couldn't hear the other end of the conversation, but she didn't have to. She could guess what kind of reaction the Doctor's cheekiness had garnered.

They'd just left Washington D.C. The Doctor had managed to avert the Cuban Missile Crisis. While there hadn't been any aliens involved, the Doctor had intervened anyway, because he wouldn't let "bomb-happy Americans blow up the planet."

"No, I won't address you as Mr. President. You haven't earned the title yet. You got into office on your good looks and charm. And because you happen to be married to an intelligent, poised young woman. Perhaps you shouldn't bed hop behind her back, particularly with my….my…"

Clara arched a brow as the Doctor floundered for the right word. He stared at her, mouth opening, closing. JFK had propositioned her as well, right under the Doctor's nose and it'd infuriated the Time Lord. Even though, Clara had politely declined.

The Doctor had managed the crisis, but she'd never seen him more distant or disconnected from the humans around him. For a time, she thought he might just leave them to sort it themselves…but then he said Clara might never be born, so he had to intervene.

Clara approached him slowly, deliberately, her heels clicking on the floor. She placed a hand on his chest. Today, he'd gone formal: the white button down shirt, a black waist coat and matching trousers, that delicious velvet jacket. She slipped her fingertips between the buttons, touching his chest.

Just like that, the Doctor's eyes turned molten.

Clara backed him to the stairs, loving the way he gave in, accepted her lead. Right now, she'd have both of his sides of his personality, all at once.

"Sit," she whispered and he obediently sat down on the third stair.

Clara licked her lips and his gaze followed the movement, longing plain to see on his handsome face. She'd worn red lipstick today, for him. He loved in her red. Clara thought it was because he could see the marks her kisses left behind.

She could hear the president muttering indistinctly into the Doctor's ear, but couldn't make out the words. Like all the parental figures on those Peanuts cartoons.

"Keep talking," she ordered. "If you stop before you come for me, I won't finish you off. You'll be hard and wanting all day."

His brows raised and he swallowed thickly, an audible gulp that she found endearing.

"Go on, Jack. Tell me your plans. I want to hear everything." The Doctor showed even white teeth after he said it, pleased at his own clever ploy.

"Good boy," Clara whispered.

Clara unbuckled his belt, loving the rasp of the leather. She loved tying his hands with it, even more. But not right now. She had other plans. Clara peeled back the fabric of his trousers, revealing his black and white question mark boxers. She stroked him through the cotton. The fabric was distended, his arousal causing it to pucker. Someday, she'd make him to take her to an adult pleasure planet and she'd buy him something a lot less chaste.

The Doctor's eyes closed, and his head fell back as she teased him. The Doctor was so much more sensitive in this incarnation. His new body was responsive to the slightest touch. Clara pushed the fabric down further until his cock sprang from a thicket of silver curls. He was already hard for her, standing at attention, just like she knew he would be.

With a sigh, she kissed the tip, leaving a lipstick stain in her wake.

He shuddered as he stared down at himself. "Oh, yes," the Doctor said into the phone, a husky rumble that made her shiver. "Go on."

Clara wrapped a hand around him, stroking as she loved the head of his cock, licking and sucking the tip. He cradled the phone with his shoulder and his beautiful hands slipped into her hair, holding her close.

Oh, this was delicious.

He was talking to the president, but she doubted the Doctor heard a word the man said, because the time lord was completely focused on her. His universe had narrowed down to just her. While Clara was on her knees, she'd never been more in control of him.

She opened wide, just to show off, and let him slide deep into her throat.

He moaned and then coughed to cover it. Sensually, Clara deep-throated him. The Doctor had a large endowment and she'd had to work on her gag reflex, but it'd been worth effort. Clara sucked in earnest then. Until he was on edge and then stopped, let him fall from her lips.

The Doctor sucked in a deep breath. And gave her such a pleading look, she almost gave in…but not quite yet. She pushed him back on the stairs, so he almost laid down on them. She knew the position wasn't comfortable, but that was part of the charm. Painful pleasure. He groped for the phone to keep it from tumbling out of his grip.

With a wicked grin, she stood and reached beneath her plaid miniskirt to remove her lacy knickers. No tights today. She draped them over the Doctor's face, placing the dewy crotch over his nose, so he could smell her arousal. His eyes closed and a shiver rocked his body.

Clara straddled him and pushed his head to one side. She whispered in his ear, "I'm going to fuck you now. Don't you dare come." And then she bit his earlobe.

He mewled into the phone. "I, uh, stubbed my toe. Continue," he said between gritted teeth.

Clara sank down onto his cock then, seating herself fully. His eyes were locked with hers as she did. She was so wet, he glided into her like velvet. God, she loved the way they fit together. Made for each other.

For a long moment, she sat like that. Watching him watch her. She knew he wanted her to move. Needed her to. But she held out, until she saw the plea in his eyes. Another surrender.

With a moan, she rode him. Her knees would be scraped, her back would ache, but the TARDIS would heal both of them. It was worth the momentary pain.

Clara braced her hands against the railing to give her more leverage. And took him at a gallop.

The Doctor had pressed his lips together to keep from crying out. She angled her body, so he rubbed against her clit. Someday, she'd have to tether him to a bed, just like this. And ride him again and again. Every time she had the urge, but not let him come. Oh, he'd beg her, plead with her for his release. Maybe she'd ball gag him. Or stuff her panties into his mouth.

The thought alone made her orgasm. She didn't bother to stifle her own cries though. JFK wouldn't be scandalized. Although he must've asked the Doctor what the noise was, because the Time Lord snapped, "Never mind!" into the phone.

When she finished, she slid off of him and the Doctor whimpered at the loss of contact. Oh, his cock looked glorious. Reddish purple, slick with her juices. So ready, needy for release.

She placed her lips against his free ear once more. "Do you want to come?"

He nodded furiously.

"Will you stay quiet for me? Like a good boy?"

Again, he dipped his head.

"Okay then. You have my permission to come" Clara bent and tasted him again, tasted the two of them melded together. This time, she gave him no mercy, sucking him deep, taking him to the edge in seconds. She could play his body like he played that guitar now.

"Oh!" he gasped and then he stilled, the calm before the storm. And then he erupted in her mouth, a flood of warm semen, which she swallowed, savoring the taste.

After it was over, she crawled up his body. "Say goodbye," she said.

"Goodbye," the Doctor said, hitting the red button and silencing the president. He tossed the phone aside like it was nothing. "Control freak."

"You loved it."

His only response was a chuckle.


End file.
